


Grill-Blackened Fall Special

by taichara



Category: Dragalia Lost (Video Game)
Genre: 30-50 feral hogs, Cooking For A Crowd, Eat Your Vegetables
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:41:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26827549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taichara/pseuds/taichara
Summary: Ranzal's adventurous, but notthatadventurous.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 2
Collections: Writing Rainbow Black





	Grill-Blackened Fall Special

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kalloway](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalloway/gifts).



_Uggggh. Wouldn't be me, man, wouldn't be me. Nope. Hell nope._

Now, Ranzal didn't consider himself a picky sort of guy, and he sure as hell wasn't a coward either -- just ask the oinkers that met a bacon-y end yesterday. But there were some things that just didn't sit with him, damn it.

_And there ain't no shame in admitting it, either --_

Which was why he'd made it loud and clear that there was no way, no how, he was tackling _any_ of the "special side dish" that was going along with his accept-no-substitutes grilled racks o' ribs. Nope. There were some things he just wouldn't do, not even for food. Not even for delicious candied food.

Still, he couldn't help the tiniest glance sidewise the next time he tromped into the scullery to re-up his sauce supplies (earning a Look from Cleo in the process that he "ignored" with a grin) and give an update on the amount of charcoal he was feeding to the small herd of grills out in the west courtyard. Last time it was two huge ol' cauldrons parked -- planted, you might say -- over one of the hearthfires; that was bad enough. But now?

Now there was no missing Jurota, po-faced as ever, diligently carving a huge mass of squash flesh nearly as big as he was into nice neat managable candyable chunks like it was no big thing. 

Except that was no squash.

That was Pipple.

Emphasis on _was_.

_Urrghhh. Doesn't get any easier or saner and it's never gonna --_

"Ranzal! Are you listening at all? Vanessa's been looking for you -- oh, here and shoo yourself off again --"

Suddenly his hands were holding sauce crocks, and Cleo was pushing him back out the rear door (stronger than she looks, that Cleo). Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Jurota giving him the most perplexed stare ever and it was all he could do not to burst out laughing; seriously, a ninja in a kitchen studiously carving up one of their buddies to make candied squash and _he's_ getting the funny looks? Hilarious, that's what that was.

Once back outside -- blessed, glorious, free-of-veggie outside, porky smoke wafting in the fall breeze -- Ranzal arrowed straight back to his grills where it was safe, waving down Vanessa on the way when he caught a glimpse of her through a hedge. 

Over here, where it's safe, that's the ticket.

And when Vanessa's gleeful "problem" turned out to be that her and Sarisse and Zace found another sounder? Well that erased all thoughts of terrible veggies from Ranzal's mind. Even candied Pipple couldn't stack up against prospects of laying in even more smoky wild hog before the snow hit.

It was just too bad he couldn't join in this time. Aw, well. But he had grills to watch, ribs to baste and a reputation to uphold, damnit. 

A reputation that didn't involve veggies of any kind.


End file.
